Light A Roman Candle With Me
by Doomer
Summary: I felt like a savage. I was a savage. I had killed people. Neighbors of mine. People I used to work with. Kids I used to babysit. What the hell was going on in the world. Everything seemed so messed up. Then I met him. (Daryl/OC Sex, violence, drug use, and Dixon mouth, prepare yourself ladies.)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, so I'm starting a new Walking Dead Fanfic until I can figure out what to do with Cut Up Angels. DON'T WORRY, I'M NOT ABANDONING IT... ****_yet._**** It depends on what kind of feedback I get on this story. I honestly felt like I wasn't writing enough, I wasn't a fan of the way I was writing Daryl, I didn't like Kristina in the fanfic. It was a hotmess and a half. If ya'll really want me to continue, please let me know but this story is already impressing me more than cut up angels has. I like the way I'm writing this. I feel like I'm showing off the writing skills I actually have and Cut up angels was making me look incapable of anything. SO let me know.**

_**ALSO, I'M GOING TO BE WRITING PERSONALIZED ONE SHOTS OF ANY NORMAN REEDUS CHARACTER. YOU CAN EMAIL ME AT**__ kristinakayo with some personal information; age, name, favorite anything, what rating you'd like and such. Please, email me and let me know if you're interested and I'll start working on them ASAP!_

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"Where ya goin'?" Michael asked me as I stood up from around the fire. I brushed a strand of hair from out of my face and sighed loudly.

"I 'unno. Can't stand just sittin' 'round though." I grumbled, grabbing the club that sat beside me on the log. I hooked it though my belt loops and headed down towards the river.

It had been almost four weeks since the outbreak and I had left with a group of people from my job. As computer analysts we weren't really as prepared for the apocalypse as people who had more… hands on… hard working jobs. But if you needed to hack into a mainframe of a computer, I was your gal.

I pulled my shoes off and rolled my jeans up to just below my knee and waded into the river, enjoying the feeling of the cool, refreshing water on my skin. Being in Georgia had it's ups and downs, one of the downs being the unrelenting heat of the long-Indian summer we were in the middle of. I could barely take the heat during the day and spent most of my time down at the river, washing clothes and gathering water just to have an excuse to be half naked and soaking wet.

Michael, the man I had been interested in for almost two years was telling me how the day of the outbreak he was going to call in sick, but decided to come in anyway, seeing as it was one of the last days we could receive over time. If he had stayed home, he probably wouldn't have survived because his room-mate came home early after noon after having been bitten by a biter a couple hours earlier.

He turned in his bed and killed his other room-mate, Michaels dog and the cat who had taken up residence on their closed in front porch. It was a bloodbath when we had gone back so we could all grab clothes and personal belongings.

Mary, an older woman who I sat next to while at work had a husband who was at home during the outbreak.. He didn't make it. When we stepped foot into her house he had charged us and I was the only one who reacted fast enough and caught him in the temple with a letter opener I had grabbed off my desk. Her kids lived in Massachusetts, and she had gotten a hold of them before all the cell phone towers had gone down and everyone was doing okay. Our plan was to head up there after the winter and see if they had made it.

Vick was our boss. Younger guy, full of energy and spunk. Had a lot of potential to make it to the head office but his dream was cut short by the rising of the dead. He was strong, big arms and a lean body that made most of the girls in the office swoon, including me. He was nice to look at but jeez, the man couldn't be a bigger douche bag if he wore an Ed Hardy snap-back to work every day. He thought he was better than all of us, and proceeded to tell us so the day of the outbreak. He said he couldn't be more fucked, being suck with a group of shmucks like us.

As I waded deeper into the river, not really caring anymore if my pant legs got wet I pulled my shirt off and tossed it to the bank, sinking into the water up to my neck, letting out a loud sigh.

It felt so good to not be sweating off my non-existent balls. I dipped my head back and let my long, blonde hair out of its pony tail and dipped it into the water. I stayed there like that for a good five minutes before standing up. I wrung my hair out and pulled it back up into a pony tail and waded back to shore.

I pulled my shirt over my head and sat down on a rock for a moment watching as the sun set behind the trees.

The first week of the outbreak we had stayed anywhere that had a lock on the door, but as the number of biters increased in Atlanta, we had to make our way towards the outskirts. We ended up at an abandoned campsite a couple miles away from the city and set up camp.

There had been eight of us the first day but our group slowly dwindled down to the four of us.

Survival of the fittest, right? I suddenly don't regret all the late night work outs in the living room of my apartment, doing ridiculous cardio and muscles exercises with weights wrapped around my ankles and wrists.

I was able to run a good ten miles before even being winded, but then again, I was able to run at my own pace and stop if I needed to, and I wasn't being chased down by herds of people trying to rip me limb from limb.

Once it was dark I made my way back to camp to find everyone sharing a can of chicken noodle soup. I sat down next to Michael and sighed loudly, lifting my arms above my head in a dramatic stretch. My poor muscles still weren't used to sleeping on nothing but a thin later of padding. I missed my pillow top, king sized bed.

"We should make a drive into the city tomorrow, look for supplies." Vick said as he passed the can of soup to me. I nodded and took a spoonful before handing it to Michael.

"How low are we on food?" I asked, resting my head in my hands, rubbing my forehead with the heel of my palms.

"We got 'bout four cans of soup left, box of goldfish crackers and some wheat thins." Michael said, rummaging through our food bag.

As cute as Michael was, he was no good at fending off biters. He would freeze up and just stand there in paralyzed shock while they came at him. I saved his life a couple times before I finally told him to just stay in the car and be the driver.

Mary shook her head and handed the can of soup to Vick. "I'll stay here, incase anyone comes by." She whispered. She was around fifty-five, still strong and full of life though. She was still scared of the biters. We all were. Anyone who said other wise was lying.

"I'll go." I volunteered after another long, drawn out sigh of exhaustion. Vick narrowed his eyes at me suddenly, pursing his lips together. I narrowed my eyes right back at him, "What? I'm the only one here besides you who can actually put one of those things down without freezing up." I grumbled, suddenly regretting my words as I heard Michael clear his through, setting the empty can of soup on the ground.

"Fine, we leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow, be ready." Vick spat, standing up and walking towards his truck. I huffed loudly, pushing myself to my feet and started towards my tent, upset that Vick still didn't trust me to have his back.

I was far more qualified to go into town than Mary and Michael put together. I held my own in the group and everyone but Vick saw that. I don't know why it bothered me so much but shit, I hated being treated like a damsel in distress, or a child.

I made sure I pulled my own weight at camp and I felt like I should be treated like everyone else.

I tossed and turned most of the night. Like every night since we made camp out here. Sleeping outside wasn't ideal for me. I had never been the 'outdoorsy' type of girl.

I enjoyed my acrylic nails- which I had ripped off two days after the outbreak due to all the dry blood which had accumulated underneath them-, I loved getting my hair done and doing my make up and now all of that was no more. I was always dirty and smelled bad, my hair was greasy and my clothes were torn and blood stained.

I felt like a savage.

I was a savage.

I had killed people I worked with. Neighbors of mine. _Kids I used to baby sit._

"Would you shut th'fuck up?" Vick hissed back at me as we crept down the ally. "S'people comin'." Since the outbreak, Vicks southern accent had grown much stronger. I think he tried to tone it back for work to sound more professional, and now that we didn't have a job anymore, he didn't give a single fuck.

"Ya could'a asked nicely." I grumbled under my breath which got me a fiery glare. I shut my mouth and pulled the club free from my belt loops as Vick and I took a step out into the main road.

We were caught in what looked like an old country shoot out, Vick and I standing on one side of the street, our weapons drawn as the group of others drew their weapons.

The one who looked like he was in charge was wearing a policemans uniform and I suddenly grew nervous of the bag of weed I had picked off some guy laying on the street. It made me chuckle because what was the guy gonna do?

_Arrest me?_

I snorted quietly, which won me another angry glare from Vick.

"We ain't gon' hurt ya." Vick called out to them after a moment of silence between the two groups. "We's jus' trynna look fer supplies, then head back to camp." He explained, holding his gun in the air along with his other hand. I rolled my eyes and also surrendered, putting my club back through my belt loop and holding my hands up lazily.

"S'just the two of you?" The police officer called back. Vick shook his head and took a slow step forward. I gawked at him and shook my head, stepping back incase they fired on him.

I saw one of the men behind the officer chuckle and smirk, pulling his loaded crossbow up to his cheek.

"Naw, we got two otha's at our camp up in the woods." Vick answered. Why was he telling them all of this!? So they could track us later tonight and then kill all of us and take all our supplies. I shook my head again and put my hands at my sides, standing there, shifting my weight from one foot to the other nervously.

Vick looked back at me and motioned for me to walk forward with him. I gave him a look of utter bewilderment and shook my head, stepping back some more.

"We ain't gon' fire." The officer called out, seeing my obvious fear at all their raised weapons. The officer gestured his hands for the group behind him to lower the guns. When I didn't have four men pointing loaded weapons at my head did I finally decided to walk towards them, still pretty cautious though.

"S'yer names?" The officer asked, extending his hand to us. Vick reach forward and gripped the officers hand in his.

"Names Vick." He nodded and then looked back at me. "An' this is Kristina." he explained. I extended my hand to the officers hand gently and then scanned the rest of his group.

"Well Vick, I'm Rick, this is Daryl, Glenn and T-Dog." He rattled off their names so fast I didn't know what name belonged to who.

"Rick and Vick." I giggled, my immature since of humor finally catching up to me since the outbreak happened. All the men looked at me with raised eyebrows like I was wearing a hot, neon pink helmet that said "Handicapped" on it. I stopped giggling and kicked my feet at the ground nervously, not making eye contact with any of the men while Vick shook hands with everyone.

"S'all of ya?" Vick asked, running his hands through his short brown hair. Rick shook his head and pointed up towards the quarry.

"Nah, we got a few others up in the hills. Trynna find supplies and a man that went… missin' from our group." The man who had been holding the cross bow snorted loudly and shook his head.

"Missin'?" He scoffed. "Ya' fuckers handcuffed him to a roof then lost the fuckin' key!" He nearly shouted. "He escaped, is what he did." He growled, clearly upset about the man who had gone missing.. I mean escaped…

"Why did'chya handcuff 'im to a roof?" I blurted out, instantly covering my mouth with my hands after I let the word vomit escape my lips.

"S'actin' out. He's a danger to our group so we did what we hat'ta do." Rick nodded, smiling at me softly. He had really kind eyes and a warm smile that suddenly made me wish I was part of his group and not stuck with Vick the Prick.

I snickered at my internal joke, which once again, won me another cold stare from the Prick himself.

"Ya'll are welcome to join our group." Rick offered. "We've got more than enough room up near the quarry and there is sure has hell safety in numbers." He added, nodding back at his group. I glanced up from the ground and noticed that the man who was upset about the escapee was staring at me, a small smirk turned the corner of his mouth up.

I gasped softly and panicked, not knowing what to do as I felt his eyes burn a hole in my forehead.

"Mind followin' us back to our camp s'we can get the rest of our people?" Vick asked, motioning for the larger group to follow him to our car.

I ran my hands down my face in pure exasperation as I watched Michael and Mary try to set up their tents in the new camp.

"Morons." I mumbled to myself. "I'm surrounded by morons." I shook my head as I heard a chuckle from behind me. I turned to see the man with the cross bow, smirking as he leaned against a tree, watching the pair try and set up their tents. "We're computer analysts. Those two could hack into the pentagon if they wanted to but they can't set up a god damned tent." I teased.

The man laughed out loud, shaking his head. "Look's ta'me like ya got yer tent all set up n'ready to go." He nodded towards the pink tent I had picked out from my local camping supply store before we made our way to the woods.

"I'm really, really… and I mean like so freaking good at reading instructions." I said in a know it all tone. The man took a step towards me, extending his hand.

"Daryl." He looked down at me and smirked gently. "Dunno if ya caught it back'n Atlanta." His voice sent shivers down my spine as his icy blue eyes pierced mine. I was suddenly at a loss for words. Stumbling to say anything so I didn't look like a fool.

"Pretty name." I blurted out, closing my eyes the second I said it. Word vomit. Lots of word vomit.

I opened my eyes and saw Daryl looking at me like I had that helmet on again. "I meant nice name. Nice." I explained through a lot of throat clearing and kicking at the ground nervously. "I-" I pointed at my nose, "am Kristina, incase you forgot." I explained, smiling uncomfortably as Daryl leaned on the tree next to me, smirking.

"I didn't ferget." His voice was low again, and I felt that lump in my throat growing larger and larger.

Daryl was fucking hot. I couldn't deny that. He was rugged looking, like being outdoors came natural to him. He was a wild-man. And I liked it.

It was like those sappy love novels I read. The ones where the woman is always rich and beautiful and the leading man is a stable boy or some shit. I loved those novels and suddenly felt like I was in one. Living my own naughty story book.

I tried to run my fingers through my hair but accidentally miscalculated my movements and poked myself in the eye.

"For the love of Mary and all that is fucking Holy." I whimpered, holding a hand over my eye.

Daryl snickered and bit his bottom lip.

All in all, I think my first impression with Daryl went over pretty smoothly.


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes darted back and forth between Vick and Shane, the hollering echoed throughout the quarry. I wrinkled my nose as the insults started flying.

"Listen ya stupid pig, I ain't gotta listen ta ya 'er anyone else fer that matter!" Vick shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Who do you think you are coming back my camp, and then try to give me orders?" Shane spat angrily. Vick chuckled condescendingly and crossed his arms over your chest.

"So sorry. Ain't know this camp had yer fuckin' name on it." I cocked my head at Vick's retort and raised an eyebrow. What were we? Fucking eleven? I sighed loudly and watched the madness unfold in front of me as Mary sat down beside an older gentleman named Dale.

It was love. I could feel it. Dale had on this stupid fisherman's hat and Mary just couldn't get enough of it. I think Dale reminded her of her husband. Excuse me, late husband. He had been an avid fisherman and Dale even looked kind of like her late husband. I couldn't hear what they were saying over the shouting of the two hot heads in front of me but I saw Mary blush and Dale smirk.

They were flirting. My heart fluttered for them and I had a little faith at that moment. Two people who had lost everything found something in all this wreckage and madness. They found each other.

"Shut your stupid fucking mouth, you ignorant prick!" Vick shouted at Shane. I shook my head and popped up off the chair I was sitting on.

"You shut up!" I shouted at Vick. "These people have done nothing but open up their arms to us and give us everythin' we needed to survive and you act like they owe us somethin'!" I threw my hands up in the air as I rolled my eyes. "So just shut the fuck up and sit down.

"You shut the fuck up and sit down!" Vick growled at me. At that moment I saw Daryl zip open the tent flap and step out, pulling his boots on. He looked like he was in a hurry and had his eyes narrowed in on Vick.

"If I wanted my comeback I would have wiped it off your fathers mouth, okay?" I retorted with a smirk. Everyone's jaw dropped as they stopped what they were doing to stare at me.

Word vomit.

Daryl stood there, standing on one foot while trying to pull his boot on the other, gawking at what I had just said before he smirked, putting his other foot down and nodding. Vick stepped towards me but Shane was quick to jump between us.

"Ya don't talk to a lady like that, alright?" Shane hissed into Vicks ear. Vick scoffed and pushed Shane's shoulders.

"I'll talk to her however the fuck I want. She ain't nothin' but a worthless cunt." Vick spat, looking around the camp, noticing all the people staring at him. "Ya, y'all heard me right, she's a worthless cunt." His voiced boomed through the quarry and Lori was quick to run to her son Carl and cover his ears.

I wrinkled my nose once again at the insult and took a step forward, pushing past Shane as I made my way into the middle of camp.

"I'm sorry, but could'ya maybe jus'… say that… one mo' time?" I asked, holding my index finger up next to my cheek. "I ain't hear ya the first two times." I added. Vick smirked and leaned in close to me. So close I could feel his breath on my neck.

It made me shiver and I suddenly realized that I was probably going to get the shit beaten out of me for what I was about to do.

"Ya heard me just fine… ya worthless-" Before Vick could finish what he was saying I drew my closed fist back and brought it down hard across his cheek as hard as I could. Vick stumbled backward, holding his jaw in shock as I brought my fist to my stomach, wincing as my hand began to throb in pain.

Vick, who was quick on his feet charged me but was stopped by a blur. All I heard was the sound of skin contacting skin, a loud thud and then saw I Vick on the ground. I blinked and there stood Daryl, standing over him, shaking his right hand away from his body gently.

"If I see ya put yer hands n'her, I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya." Daryl spat as Vick rolled around on the ground, groaning.

I was in shock. Partially because I had just punched my boss- well… the man who used to be my boss- in the face, and because Daryl had just saved me from being beaten within an inch of my life. Vick had never put his hands on be before. No man had. I was pretty reclusive back when the world wasn't in shambles.

I was a video-gamer girl who liked to smoke pot and hack into people's wifi so I didn't have to pay for my own. The closest thing that I had to a boyfriend was the IT guy who flirted with me at work when we had problems with the systems that we couldn't fix ourselves. I had only had sex once and I was drunk and don't really remember if it was any good or not.

I stood there, staring at Daryl with an open mouth as he walked by me, grabbing me by the upper arm softly. He pulled me far away from the group, almost into the woods before he stopped and stared at me for a moment before grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Damn lil' girl, ya sure can throw a fuckin' punch. I ain't ever seen a girl hit s'mone like that." He smirked at me. I heard his words but my ears perked up at one part in particular and I couldn't seem to get past it.

"I ain't a 'lil' girl'." I grumbled, grubbing my sore knuckles with my good hand. "I'm twenty-two fuckin' years old. I'm tired of bein' talked to like I'm some kinda child." Daryl glared at me and his eyes grew colder than ice.

"Calm th'fuck down. I was givin' ya a damn compliment." He spat, his mood suddenly changing as I shot down his 'compliment'. I rubbed the corner of my eyes with my index fingers, sighing loudly.

"I'm sorry. I'm jus' so fuckin' stressed." I grumbled to Daryl, who had now taken an interest in his own knuckles and didn't seem to be paying much attention to my apology. "Thanks for doin' that back there. Ya saved my ass from a pretty serious beatin'." He still didn't look at me. I pursed my lips together tightly and then let out a long, exasperated sigh.

I really couldn't catch a break. All I wanted to do was jump Daryl right there. Rip his clothes off and fuck the poor man stupid but I knew I didn't have those kinda guts. I mean, it was the end of the world and he probably wouldn't have any complaints but what if he did? What if he threw me off of him and told the whole camp how I tried to rape him. Oh my god. Panic attack. Word vomit. It was coming up and I couldn't stop it.

"I have weed." I blurted out, covering my mouth with my hands, wincing as I accidentally slapped my bad knuckles with my good hand. Daryl looked up, a grin plastered across his face as he leaned against a tree.

"Don't look like th'kinda girl who participates in illegal activities." He sneered. I furrowed my brow at him and looked at him over my glasses.

"You'd be surprised, buddy." I snort, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket. I see Daryl's eyes light up as I pull one from the pack and look at him. "Want one?" I ask, holding the pack out to him. He looks around to see if anyone is looking and snatches one from the pack, holding it under his nose and inhaling deeply.

"Lil' girl, I ain't think I'd ever see one of these again." He smirks, giving me a sideways glance. I can tell he's teasing me but I still don't like the new nickname I've seemed to acquired. "Meet m'back here after everyone goes to bed." He nods, placing the cigarette behind his ear, walking back towards camp as I light up my cigarette alone, leaning back against a tree, sighing loudly as I exhale smoke through my nose.

I made my way back to camp after my cigarette and sat down next to Michael, rubbing my aching knuckles gently. They had already started to bruise and I could feel them throb with every beat of my heart.

"Ya should go down ta the quarry, put yer fist in the water so it doesn't swell so bad." Shane said as he knelt down next to me. I shrugged and smirked as the silly thought crept into my head.

"Kinda makes me look like a badass, don't it?" I chuckled, holding my hand out so Michael and Shane could see. They nodded and Shane wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"What ya did was very fuckin' badass." He smirked, "But I need ya ta let me know if he tries anythin' like that," Shane gave me a serious look and narrowed his eyes, "cause if he tries somethin' like that 'gain, I'm gon' kick 'im out." Shane chuckled softly and ran his index finger across his chin and looked towards Daryl's tent. "Kick 'im out or sick Daryl on 'im." He teased, ruffling my hair gently.

I winced at the gesture. There it was, everyone treating me like I was a fuckin' child. So fucking stupid. I just punched a grown man in the fuckin' face and people were still gonna treat me like a baby.

I looked over at Michael who was giving me a knowing look. I already knew what he was gonna say and I didn't wanna hear it. But he said it anyway.

"You shouldn't be hanging out with him." He said, gesturing towards Daryl's tent. I rolled my eyes and rested my elbow on my shoulder, holding my chin in my good hand. "He doesn't look safe." He added for good measure.

"He ain't done nothin' to show me that he ain't safe, so I'm not jus' gon' toss 'im aside." I grumbled, giving Michael an unnoticeable sideways glare. "I'm an adult, thank you very much, so I'd like if ya fuckin' started treatin' me like one." I pushed myself to my feet and grabbed my club which I had left next to the lawn chair I was sitting in before the incident with Vick.

I headed down to the quarry, sitting at the bank and pushed my fist into the cold water, shivering as goose bumps rose over my skin.

I missed my mom and dad. And my dog. I missed my computer and my cell phone and all the things that had kept me busy when I had nothing better to do during the day. I looked at the water rippling around my wrist and stared at it for a moment. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my good hand around my shins, pulling myself into the tightest ball I could.

I just wanted to disappear. I was to socially awkward for this. I had no people skills. Hence why I had been so good with computers. They didn't need you to talk to them or keep up a conversation with them. You just clicked away at the keyboard and the computer did whatever you wanted it to do.

Why couldn't people be more like computers? I had asked myself this a couple times before the outbreak. I chuckled to myself and closed my eyes.

It was dark out when I opened my eyes. Groaning at the throbbing in my knuckles and wrist. "Fuck." I whispered as I pull my hand from the water. My skin was all pruned from being in the water for so long but jeez, when you fall asleep take advantage of it because I sure as hell wasn't getting enough sleep at night.

I made my way back up towards camp where everyone except Daryl and Vick had crowded around the campfire. I smirked when I noticed Mary and Dale sitting shoulder to shoulder. I caught her eye and raised my eyebrows knowingly. I ain't ever seen someone's face get so red before I almost started laughing.

"Ya hungry?" Shane asked, handing me a plate of food as I walked towards everyone, taking a seat next to the young boy Carl. I nodded and held out my good hand, bringing the plate into my lap so I could attempt to eat with my left hand.

I ain't think anything of it earlier but my right hand, the hand that I use to beat zombies over the head with, might be broken. I didn't say anything, just kept it cradled against my chest while I scarfed down every last bit of food on my plate.

Carl chuckled at me as I started running my fingertips along the steel plate, licking them hungrily as my stomach growled for more. I glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

"S'min' funny?" I asked with a small grin. He handed me what was left on his plate but I shook my head and pushed it back to him with the back of my left hand. "Ya eat it. Yer a grownin' boy." I looked at him over my glasses and winked.

"I ain't ever seen someone eat like that." He said, pushing his mashed potatoes around with his fork. I smiled down at him and pointed at Mary and Michael with my good hand.

"I been sharin' cans of soup with those guys fer almost four weeks." I explained. He raised his eyebrows in shock. I nodded and leaned in close to his ear. "They ain't very good at sharin' either." I teased, nudging him with my elbow playfully. He laughed and scooped some of his peas onto my plate.

"I don't like 'em. You can have 'em." He said, nodding at me with a small smile. I smirked down at the kid, ruffling his hair with my hands.

"Yer nicer than most adults I know." I teased, picking up the peas with my fingers, not even attempting to use a fork with my left hand anymore and dropped them into my mouth.

"Daryl eat already?" I asked, looking down at Carl as he finished his potatoes. He shook his head and looked back towards his tent.

"He ain't come out since he punched Vick in the face." He smirked. "That guy is a jerk. He was really mean to you." He added, looking back at me with almost angry eyes.

I smirked and couldn't help but chuckle at the cute kid sitting next to me. "Ya think I should bring 'im somethin'?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. Carl nodded. I stood up, collecting a spoon full of beans, peas, potatoes and a piece of venison, placing it all on the plate I had just used and made my way carefully to Daryl's tent.

"Er… uh… I have food." I finally choked out, closing one eye at how awfully awkward I could be in such non-awkward situations. I heard movement inside, then the zipper to the tent. Daryl poked his head out and looked up at me with those icy blue eyes. I almost melted right there in front of his tent. He didn't say anything, but instead just looked at me for a moment. "I ain't see ya out there with the rest of 'em, so I figured I'd bring the food to ya."

"Thanks" Daryl said gruffly, taking the plate from me as he unzipped the tent flap and crawled outside. He had on nothing but a black wife beater and his dirty work pants. He stood while he ate, not really enjoying it but mostly just shoveling it in his face as fast as humanly possible without choking.

I gawked at him as I rubbed my tender, sore knuckles. This caught Daryl's attention and he furrowed his brow, grabbing my forearm and pulling my hand towards him, squirting in the dim firelight.

"Hurt?" He asked through a mouthful of food as he looked up at me. I nodded and winced as he ran his thumb across my knuckles. He grumbled something and set the plate of food on the ground, grabbing my hand with his as gingerly as possible. It still made me whimper like a puppy as he held it closer to his face.

"S'the diagnosis, Doc?" I asked through a small smirk. Daryl looked at me through his thick eyelashes, sighing loudly before letting my hand go and picking his plate back up.

"Look's broken." he said with a know it all tone. "I'll set it fer ya, but it's gon' hurt like a bitch." He added, finishing what was left on his plate, pushing it into my chest. He headed back into his tent but stopped and looked back at me. "Don' ferget 'bout later." He nodded, before climbing the rest of the way into his tent, zipping it up and then silence.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Set my hand? The fuck did that mean? And if it was gonna hurt I didn't want any part of it. No thanks. I don't do well with pain. The throbbing in my hand continued into the night until everyone had started making their way to their respectable sleeping areas.

I crawled into my tent and grabbed my pack, unzipping it and pulling out my glass bowl. One of the other personal items I was able to grab before being ripped from humanity… or what was left of it. I fished the bag of weed out of my sleeping bag and sat in my tent, unsure of how long to wait before meeting Daryl at the spot.

I sure as hell didn't wanna go out there alone. I heard a twig snap and then a small, quiet whistle outside my tent. I crawled to the tent opening and poked my head out, seeing Daryl standing there, cradling something in his arms. He motioned for me to follow him with his head and I did.

"I'm gonna set yer hand." Daryl growled, handing the bowl back to me. I watched as smoke danced from the bowl, and then with one wisp of the wind, it was gone. Just like my old life. Gone in the blink of an eye.

"The fuck does that mean?" I asked, attempting to hold the bowl and light it at the same time with one hand. Daryl grumbled something inadable and grabbed my llighter from me, lighting the bowl as I took a big hit, pulling it into my lungs. I blew the smoke from my nose and looked over at Daryl.

He was looking at me, his eyes kinda squinty but soft. Much softer than I had ever seen them. He caught me looking at him and furrowed his brow, taking the bowl back from me and hitting it again.

"I'm gon' re-break it, s'it'll heal right." he explained, holding the bowl out to me. I grabbed it and placed it between my lips, holding it out for him to light for me. "Lil' girl." He whispered as he lit my bowl. I watched as the flame from my lighter illuminated his face for just a moment and I saw him smirking.

"It's gon' hurt, ain't it?" I asked, shaking my head as I set the bowl down next to me on the ground. He nodded and sighed.

"Yep." He said, grabbing a stick off the ground. "Bite on this." He said, grabbing another stick off the ground and placing it in his lap. I gawked at him.

"Okay, first of all, I ain't puttin' that dirty stick in my mouth. Second, I ain't lettin' ya set my fuckin' hand." I shrugged. "Ya ain't a Doctor. Yer a fuckin' redneck." I blurted out. I regretted it but it didn't seem to phase Daryl one bit.

"Ya know how many times I broke my hands in th'woods?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. It was really dark outside, but the moon was bright and once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, we could see each other enough to communicate. "I set 'em all the time. Better me than s'mone else." His eyes had gone red, and he was squinting. I smirked and felt the buzz starting to go to my head.

He looked at me for a long time before sighing again. I could tell he was getting frustrated with me and I felt bad that he was trying to help and I was being so difficult. "If ya don' let m'set it, it's gon' heal all wrong and it's gon' hurt all th'time." His eyes were soft again, looking at me for confirmation that he could go ahead and snap my hand back in place.

"Do ya got pain killa's fer me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Daryl reached down to his side and tossed me a half empty bottle. I tried to read it in the dark but it was no use.

"S'vicoden." He growled, scotching closer to me as I held my hand out for him. "Yer gon' wanna bite on that stick, Lil' Girl." He said with such seriousness I almost backed out of this. I grabbed the stick and reluctantly placed it between my teeth, closing my eyes as I felt Daryl grab my right hand.

He pushed both thumbs on the top of my knuckles, holding my hand gently. "I'mma count ta three." He warned. "Don't scream, jus' bite down real hard, 'kay?" He asked. I nodded and looked up at the moon, breathing in deeply as I awaited the murderous pain I was about to endure.

"One…" He moved so he was closer to me, his knees up, elbows resting on the tops of his kneecaps. I looked at him and then closed my eyes again. "Two…" I could hear the sympathy in his voice as he sighed. "Three…"

I bit down hard on the stick as Daryl used his thumbs to press the bone back in place. My eyes shot open as I felt my teeth sink into the wood of the stick. I let out a guttural groaning sound as my hand throbbed worse than it did when I broke it the first time. I spit the stick out and brought my hand to my chest, cradling it carefully.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I pushed myself to my feet. I couldn't sit. I had to move. I had to not think about this pain and how badly I wanted to punch Daryl Dixon in his fucking face. "Oh my fucking god." I wheezed, "Christ in heaven help me." I sobbed, pacing back and forth in front of Daryl. He watched me with apathetic eyes. He knew the pain I was in. He had done it to himself a couple times from the way he had talked about it.

"I gotta wrap it up, Lil' Girl," He cooed softly, grabbing my left hand with both of his and pulled me to the ground in front of him.

I sat down cross legged between his legs as he reached behind him and grabbed an ace bandage. He pulled a knife from his waistband and grabbed the stick that had been sitting in his lap.

"I'm gon' turn ya into a warrior." He teased, pushing the blade along one end of the stick in each direction. "I'm gon' make yer splint inta a spear." He nodded. "That way, yer hand isn't completely useless." He explained.

"Grreaaaat." I said unenthusiastically. "I'm sooo excited." I was grateful but killing zombies wasn't my favorite thing to do. I'd much rather be in the middle of that lake on a raft, reading a smutty book. Or… reenacting one of those smutty books with Daryl.

I watched as he wrapped the ace bandage around my wrist, the sharp end of the stick pointing away from me as he wrapped it around my hand so I couldn't move it even if I tried.

"Ya do know I'mma kill myself with this thing, right?" I asked, holding up my new weapon. Daryl chuckled and shook his head, grabbing the cigarette from behind his ear.

"Just don't sleep on it." he said, holding his hand up to his face the way a person would use their hands as a pillow.

I tried my best to glare at him but couldn't muster the energy to glare while he smoked his cigarette. I was exhausted. And my hand hurt. And I wanted to fuck him. So. Damn. Badly.

I ached for him but I would never tell him that.


End file.
